Need
by Sam.J.Eller
Summary: Sam is injured in the process of protecting his big brother. That doesn't sit well with Dean, who is left patching up his little brother. Set in Season 1. Hurt/Protective/Sam and Caring/Protective/Dean. One-Shot.


Note: Wrote this for a fic challenge on tumblr (feel free to check out my tumblr: sammy-samulet). Anyways, I'm not sure about it, but I hope that someone likes it!

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"Dammit Sam, what the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that there was no way I was going to let you get eaten."

"Don't be dramatic. I wasn't going to let it take a bite out of me. I had it covered."

"Oh really? Because from where I was standing it looked like you were on the ground and the werewolf was running right at you."

"Than clearly you were standing in the wrong spot. Now stop moving."

Sam snorted in exasperation, but obeyed my demand and obediently lied still.

Well as still as he could manage while his body twitched in pain.

I got back to work trying desperately to stop the bleeding so I could start stitching up the wounds.

My brother's chest was a mess of shredded skin, courtesy of the werewolf claws that had raked through it. His body shook as I placed pressure on the numerous injuries.

"I've got to stop the bleeding." I explained unnecessarily.

Sam nodded his head as he bit down hard on his bottom lip to keep from crying out. I turned my attention back to my brother's mutilated skin and cursed those damn pain pills for not working fast enough.

"M'alright Dean." Sam bit out looking up at me with a reassuring gaze that completely contradicted the deep pain lines patterning his face.

"Yeah, you are little brother. You're going to be just fine." I promised, hoping that I didn't appear as concerned as I felt.

I looked back down at my his chest, relieved to see that the flow of blood had become more of a trickle, allowing me to see well enough to stitch up all the torn skin.

"Alright buddy, I'm going to start patching you up. Just...just hold on." I instructed lamely as I pulled out the supplies and prepared for the procedure.

Sam gripped onto the bed-sheet beneath him as he tensed in prepartion for the pain.

I hated causing my little brother even further agony, but we couldn't wait any longer for the drugs to kick in. The kid had already lost way too much blood. That was the reason he was being sewn back together in a cabin instead of a hospital room.

We had been renting the small cabin for our hunt and, as it turned out, there was no cell reception out in the woods. So when Sam got ripped open by that fugly creature the only way to get him to the hospital would have been a three hour car ride, and at the rate he had been losing blood, I knew that we didn't have three hours.

Therefor, I had lugged him back to the cabin, laid him out on the bed, and dosed him up with the good stuff...well it was supposed to be the good stuff.

The long torso arched away from my touch as I slid the sterilized needle through the skin.

"Sam-"

"Sorry. Sorry." He muttered, forcing himself to remain as still as possible, but was unable to hold back the involuntary shudders that travelled through him.

"Not your fault." I declared, because once the pain became strong enough, it was no longer up to the mind to decide how the body behaved.

Experience had taught me that much.

"How's your knee?"

I snorted at the question. Leave it to my little brother to be torn up and suffering, and still take the time to ask bout my well-being.

"It's fine." I spat, not bothering to hide my anger towards the useless limb.

My damn knee was the reason we were in this mess. I had sprained it on a hunt a few weeks ago. I thought it had been better, at least I wasn't limping anymore. But the moment I was running toward the werewolf, just about to take it out, the stupid joint gave out and sent me crashing to the ground. I had dropped my weapon in my decent and had been scrambling for it as the monster approached, which was when Sam decided to throw himself between me and the threat.

That was my job.

But apparently Sam had forgotten that during his years away at school, and decided it would be okay to take on my roll as protector.

Well, he was out of his damn mind, because that would **not** be happening.

"You sure you didn't sprain it again?"

The question was ground out through my brother's teeth as he continued his struggle to control the pain, but when I glanced up I noticed his neck was strained so he could see me clearly and his eyes were staring intently into mine, waiting for an answer.

"It's fine man. It just gave out for a second, but it's fine." I answered honestly, thankful to have finished stitching the first long claw mark as I moved onto the next.

I was trying to be quick and efficient as to avoid further blood loss, but was taking my time to be sure the stitches were small, I didn't want it to scar.

Sam had enough scars.

"You sure."

I rolled my eyes.

In our time apart I had nearly forgotten how persistent my pain-in-the-ass little brother could be.

"I carried your sasquatch ass in here didn't I?" I asked, a small smirk on my face as I gave him a look.

Sam huffed, but one of his dimples made a brief appearance as he let his head drop back onto the pillow.

I got back to work, automatically apologizing every time I made my little brother hiss, to which he would always respond: "it's not your fault."

But it was.

Had I not fallen, had I been able to stay on my feet and kill that supernatural creature, this wouldn't have happened.

Sam wouldn't have been forced to jump in the middle. He wouldn't be all sliced up. He wouldn't be bleeding all over the bed. He wouldn't be vibrating in agony.

If I had done my job, Sam wouldn't be hurting.

"Stop it."

I glanced up quickly at the command, the injured young man was glaring at me.

"I can't stop Sam. You've lost too much blood as it is."

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it."

I feigned ignorance and returned my concentration to carefully threading my brother's skin shut.

"Stop blaming yourself. This wasn't your fault." He stated stubbornly.

I shook my head in disagreement, but made no comment.

"Dean, your knee gave out. There's nothing you could have done. It was my choice to get in the middle. What happened isn't your fault." Sam voice was tight with pain, but that did not hinder it from oozing sincerity.

I didn't dare look up, knowing that I would get a view full of those soulful puppy-dog eyes if I did.

"What the hell were you thinking diving in front of the werewolf like that?" My question was gruff, but touch gentle as I completed stitching the second wound and moved on to the next.

"I was thinking that you weren't going to grab your gun on time and I didn't want to watch you get turned into puppy chow, even though it probably would have improved your looks."

Normally I would have acknowledged my brother's attempt at humour, but not today, not now. Not when I was sitting there covered in his blood, literally tying him back together.

"So you thought it would be a good idea to offer yourself up instead?" I grumbled.

I could sense Sam's frown.

"No. C'mon Dean, it hardly had time to claw me before I killed it."

"Trust me, it had lots of time." I stated darkly, my gaze travelling over my brother's chest, thankful that it was starting to look more like part of a human body and less like minced meat. But the four long gashes marring his torso were far from comforting.

"Well it was better my chest than your face. Besides, it's not that bad, nothing you can't fix."

And damn if that stupid adoring tone of voice didn't come across loud and clear.

He was right. The scratches were deep, deep enough to bleed like a bitch, need some serious stitching, and maybe cause some muscle damage, but other than that, Sam would be fine.

But that wasn't the point.

The point was that Sammy got hurt protecting me.

And that was unacceptable.

"Don't do that again." I demanded fiercely a few moments later as I started in on the fourth and final gash.

"I can't promise that." Sam confessed softly, but firmly.

I tore my eyes up from my brother's damaged chest to look seriously into those hazel eyes.

"You can. And you will." I ordered in my most parental tone.

I watched as that familiar defiant expression made it's appearance...damn I had missed that. I had missed everything about this kid, even the things that had always irritated the crap out of me.

Like his stupid stubborn streak.

"I won't. I won't promise not to do what it takes to save you."

"Sam-

"No Dean, you could never promise that. Don't you dare expect me to."

"It's not the same thing. I'm older. I'm supposed to look out for you."

"We are supposed to look out for each other." Sam argued, breathing heavily as he strained to sit up.

"Sam! Stay still." I barked out, pressing down on his shoulder to get him back to a completely horizontal position.

"I need you to understand! I'm not a kid anymore! I can protect you to! We can protect each other." He insisted.

"Okay, okay, you made your point. I get it. We can watch each other's backs. Now just stop moving and lay back down before you pop your stitches and screw up all my hard work."

Sam studied my face for a moment, before finding whatever it was he was looking for and relenting.

"Take it easy, take it easy. Just relax." I instructed, watching as the young man fought to control his breathing.

Apparently the meds waited until then to kick in, and in a second Sam's body was going slack, tense muscles relaxing as he released a long sigh.

"It's about damn time." I grumbled, quickly finishing up the last few stitches and lightly rubbing ointment over the cuts to help stave off infection.

I felt my brother's watchful gaze on me and stood to lean over him.

"Just try and get some rest." I said, smoothing his long bangs off his sweat soaked forehead.

Sam nodded, yawning as he pressed his head into the pillow.

"Sure your knees okay?" He asked, peaking up at me.

"Yeah buddy, don't worry about me. My knee is just fine. Go to sleep." I responded, unable to stop the fond smile that crept across my face.

Sam nodded in satisfaction as his hand flailed out clumsily out in my direction. I knew immediately what he was searching for, and wrapped my fingers around his.

"Can't lose you De-" Sam slurred, the pain pills forcing him to give into exhaustion.

"I'm not going anywhere Sammy." I promised, combing my fingers through his floppy hair, smiling down at him reassuringly.

"Just lost Jess, can't lose you too. Can't do it." He rambled, his eyes shutting despite his efforts to keep them open.

"Had to save you De..I need you."

My heart clenched at the confession.

Sam's reckless behaviour made sense now. He had just lost his girlfriend, we had no idea where the hell Dad was or if he was even still alive, if something happened to me...Sam would be alone. And that thought terrified him.

Which I understood, because I felt the same way.

"I'm not leaving you little brother. Not ever." I vowed.

I wasn't sure Sam heard me, but the worry lines faded from his expression, and his body went slack as he dropped off to sleep.

I breathed a sigh of relief, because the kid was finally out of his misery.

Hopefully he would be granted some nightmare-free rest as he spent the next few days healing-up. It wouldn't do his injuries any good if he shot up out of bed screaming Jess' name every night.

I stared down at my sleeping little brother.

I hadn't realized just how much I had missed him until we were back together.

How much I missed his defiant nature.

How much I missed him fussing over the little things, like stupid knee sprains.

How much I missed him worrying about me and caring about me in such a blatantly loving way.

God I loved this kid.

It was so good to have him back.

And there was no way I was ever losing him.

I needed to do better at my job, to ensure that nothing like this ever happened again.

I needed to protect Sammy.

Because he wasn't the only one who needed his brother.

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Note: What do you think? Was it any good? I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for reading! - Sam


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